LIBRARY 

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University  of  California. 


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Mumpbrcs  Gbetbam 

Obit  1653 
From  the  oil  painting  in  the  warden's  room,  Chetham  College 


FIRST  BODLEIAN  BOOKLET 


Cbetbam  College 

[ ENGLAND ] 

"The  oldest  free  library  in  the  world" 

i 

WRITTEN    BY    ROBERT   BLATCHFORD, 

WITH  INTRODUCTION  BY  REVD.  GEORGE  HODGES,  D.D. 

AND   SPECIALLY   DRAWN   ILLUSTRATIONS   AND 

INITIALS  BY  WILLIAM   PALMER 


Copyright  1910 
By  Frederick  Parsons 


:     a  1   ::•■•••»•». 

'  ■>      '  >        .      >        >      j 

PUBLISHED  BY 
THE  BODLEIAN  SOCIETY  OF  BOSTON,  U.S.A. 


£ 


imhmrm«»s  Fi/,vo 


IN  MEMORY  OF 

Ernest  ftowatb  Crosbs 

Univ.  of  N.  Y.  1876;  Columbia  Coll.  Law  School  1878 
1856-1907 

»  *■    t'  I    ,  I 


.V.::.-i;.-:M".'.<5- 


Cbetbam  College 


of  Untrobuction 

Here  opens  a  little  gate 
out  of  a  noisy  street  into  a 
green  cloister,  so  that  we 
pass  from  the  sight  of  reek- 
ing chimneys  and  the  company  of  crowding  mill- 
hands  into  a  place  where  sweet  peace  prevails, 
where  there  is  decent  leisure,  where  there  are  old 
portraits  of  gentlemen,  and  books  written  on 
vellum,  and  good  people  who  have  time  to  read 
them.  Here  in  Manchester — of  all  impossible 
places!  —  the  past  and  the  present  lie  thus  in 
instructive  contrast. 

Mr.  Blatchford  has  no  love  for  Henry  VIII, 
who  though  he  did  not  himself  eject  the  gentle 
brethren  of  this  cloister  began  the  bad  business 
and  must  bear  the  blame  of  it.  He  has  a  store 
of  hard,  round  adjectives  with  which  he  pelts 
Henry  wherever  he  meets  him,  —  who  thus 
rudely  shut  the  door  in  the  face  of  the  past  and 
held  out  a  beckoning  hand  to  the  present;  to 
this  selfish,  commercial  present,  intent,  like 
Henry,  on  getting  all  that  can  be  got,  regardless 


[  Page  three  ] 


91  fWOfi 


Gbetbam  College 


of  old  sanctities,  of  dignity,  of  beauty,  of  religion, 
of  the  best  of  life.  Mr.  Blatchford  has  no  love 
for  this  present,  either;  especially  as  it  is  mani- 
fested in  Manchester,  and  such  like  enterprising 
places.  To  him  it  means  hurry  and  worry,  and 
cheapness  and  vulgarity,  and  things  made  by 
machinery,  and  all  manner  of  bad  taste  and  bad 
behaviour. 

I  hope  that  the  past  was  as  good  as  he  thinks 
it  was,  and  that  the  parsons  and  people  of  the 
old  times  were  as  pleasant  as  they  are  picturesque. 
I  am  afraid  that  they  were  not.  It  seems  to  me 
that  it  must  have  been  mighty  cold  for  the 
brethren  who  had  but  distant  "access  to  the  fire," 
and  that  the  cold  must  have  entered  into  their 
souls.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  it  is  warmer 
now  on  cold  days,  even  in  Manchester.  But 
it  is  cold  enough. 

Anyhow,  here  is  a  charming  picture  of  a  remote 

time,  done  with  sympathy,  full  of    fine   feeling, 

good  to  look  upon,  and  pleasant  and  profitable 

to  remember. 

George  Hodges. 

The  Deanery, 
Cambridge,  Massachusetts, 


[  Page  four  ] 


William  palmer's  Wlustrattons  an&  flnttlals 

Page 

Portrait  of  Humphrey  Chetham  Frontispiece 

Initial  with  St.  George  and  the  Dragon  3 

Chetham's  Life  Dream,  from  the  Fresco 

by  Ford  Madox  Brown        ...  7 

Initial  Based  on  the  Arms  of  Henry  VIII  7 

The  Old  Well  in  the  Quadrangle    .        .        12 

Ladies'  Bay*  in  the  Great  Hall  with 
Portion  of  Stairs  and  Doorway  lead- 
ing to  Minor  Hall       .        .        .        .        15 

Fireplace  in  the  Old  Hall       .        .        .        17 

The  Audit  or  Feofee's  Room  with  15TH 

Century  Oaken  Ceiling       .        .        .        24 

Reading   Room,  formerly  the   Warden's 

Room 25 

Historic  Bay  and  Writing  Table  in  Read- 
ing Room 26 

Jacobean  Staircase  Leading  to  Cloister 

Gallery 27 

Chetham  Boys  at  Cricket,  with  Entrance 
to  the  Pump  Court  and  Old  Brew 
House 32 


Cbetbam  College 


Humphrey  Chetham's  Life  Dream,  from  the  Fresco  of  Ford  Madox  Brown. 


Forget  six  counties  overhung  with  smoke, 
Forget  the  snorting  steam  and  piston  stroke, 
Forget  the  spreading  of  the  hideous  town  ; 
Think  rather  of  the  pack-horse  on  the  down, 
And  old  Mancunium,  small  and  white  and  clean, 
And  Irwell  bordered  by  its  gardens  green. 

(With  apologies  to  William  Morris.) 


AIL, 


Humphrey  Chet- 
S  ham,  hail !  May 
thy  kind  soul  find  music 
and  fair  flowers  in  the  far 
Elysian  fields.  Thou  wert 
a  good  fellow,  Humphrey, 
and  hast  kept  sweet  for  us 
and  undefiled,  one  quiet 
nook  of  the  old,  calm  world.  To  thee  we  owe 
the  sole  remnant  of  grace  and  dignity  now  left 
in  this  great  vulgar  city,  in  this  blatant  pursy  age. 


[  Page  seven  ] 


Cbetbam  Colleae 


Oh,  grand  old  Chetham  College,  refuge  of 
meditative  minds,  haunt  of  the  little  band  of 
poets  and  thinkers  who  survive  in  Modern  Athens 
like  the  few  grayling  lingering  in  a  stream  be- 
fouled, or  the  last  frail  flowers  clinging  to  the 
fringes  of  a  thronged  highway. 

Oh,  the  still,  grey,  ancient  pile,  mellowed  and 
made  venerable  by  the  suns  and  storms  of  many 
centuries ;  shrine  of  old  sainted  heroisms,  altar 
of  burnt-out  faiths,  monument  of  dead  glories 
and  forgiven  shams,  noble  old  harbour  of  ro- 
mance in  the  midst  of  gross  materialism,  reposi- 
tory of  a  thousand  pensive  sweet  records  of  love 
and  hatred  and  labour  and  rest,  sanctuary  of 
the  student  and  the  dreamer,  terra  incognita  of 
cheap  trippers,  storehouse  of  beauty  and  wisdom, 
which  the  money-changers  do  not  prize  —  what 
an  heirloom,  what  a  dower,  what  a  treasure  have 
we  here,  and  for  this  do  we  give  good  Humphrey 
Chetham  thanks.  May  his  soul  find  ease  and 
kind  communion  with  congenial  spirits  in  the 
great  Otherwhere  beyond  the  blue  sky-mystery 
and  its  solemn  stars. 

It  is  small  wonder  that  invading  armies  of 
cheap  trippers,  pouring  into  Manchester  from 
Victoria  Station,  pass  by  Chetham  College  una- 


[  Page  eight  ] 


Cbetbam  Golleae 


wares.  The  place  is  hidden.  Thousands  of 
Manchester  people  have  never  seen  nor  heard  of 
it.  A  modern  hotel  conceals  it  on  the  Irwell 
side,  a  modern  grammar-school  upon  the  opposite 
side,  a  jealous  wall  upon  the  side  which  fronts  the 
Cathedral.  The  entrance  is  insignificant  and 
uninviting.  Through  a  small  doorway  in  the 
common  dead  wall,  right  opposite  the  cab-rank 
you  get  a  glimpse  of  a  dull,  bare  parade,  and 
beyond  it  a  long,  low  building,  suggesting  alms- 
houses, if  nothing  worse.  You  pass  by.  You 
see  no  invitation.  You  miss  the  noblest  sight  in 
Modern  Athens. 

The  charm  and  interest  of  Chetham  College 
are  enhanced  by  the  surroundings.  It  would  be 
hard  to  find  such  another  jewel  in  such  another 
frowsy  casket. 

Conway  Castle  is  quite  at  home  in  its  green 
nest  above  the  river;  Haddon  Hall  appears  as 
natural  amongst  its  lofty  trees  and  noble  meadows 
as  a  gem  amongst  rare  chasings;  Bolton  Abbey 
sleeps  peacefully  in  Bolton  Woods;  Skipton 
Towers  have  a  quaint  old  street  and  a  solemn 
graveyard  at  their  feet ;  Hampton  Court  is  parted 
from  the  modern  world  by  broad  acres  of  smiling 
gardens ;  the  Monastery  at  Whitby  rears  its  grey 


[  Page  nine  ] 


Gbetbam  College 


frontage  to  the  everlasting  sea;  but  Chetham 
College  hides  its  still  heart  and  hoards  the  price- 
less treasures  of  its  memories  amid  the  din  and 
reek  of  busy  Manchester's  most  busy  quarters. 

The  black  Irk,  hiding  its  shame,  sneaks  by 
beneath  its  walls ;  the  black  Irwell,  exposing  its 
infamy,  crawls  past  its  front ;  the  much  restored 
Cathedral,  in  its  ugly  flagged  square,  the  Ex- 
change Station,  the  Victoria  Station,  the  big 
unhandsome  Grammar  School,  the  noisy  main 
street  —  these  are  its  boundaries. 

All  around,  from  the  ill-favoured,  grimy  walls, 
the  blatant  advertisement  signs  shriek  out  their 
trashy  wares.  The  air  is  thick  with  steam 
and  smoke,  and  redolent  of  dye-water,  of  sul- 
phur, of  rancid  odours  from  the  Yankee  cheese 
and  bacon  stores  adjacent.  The  sea  of  modern 
civilisation,  vulgar,  sordid,  irreverent,  full  of 
wolfish  greediness  and  feverish  haste,  beats  right 
up  to  the  gates  of  the  quiet  sanctuary.  Its  hot 
spray  has  blown  within  and  burnt  up  every  blade 
of  grass,  so  that  the  playground  is  a  dirty  wilder- 
ness. Modern  enterprise  and  energy  jostle  the 
old  college  on  every  side.  The  new  hotel  treads 
almost  on  its  toes,  planting  its  rude  back  against 
the  stately  front  of  Chetham's,  and  hiding  most 
completely  all  its  venerable  beauty. 

[  Page  ten  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


But  still  Chetham  College  stands  where  it  did, 
and  that  is  a  thing  to  marvel  over  and  be  grate- 
ful for.  It  is  a  miracle  of  miracles  that  it  has 
not  ere  now  been  "  transferred,"  "  restored,"  and 
"  utilised  "  out  of  all  value  or  recognition. 

It  is  a  wonderful  old  place.  As  you  enter  at 
the  little  gateway  you  step  out  of  the  new  world 
into  the  old.  The  clatter  of  the  traffic  dies 
away ;  you  forget  the  enterprising  cheese  factor, 
and  the  improved  train-service  to  Oldham  and 
Stalybridge,  you  forget  the  Belle  Vue  band 
contest,  and  the  address  of  Mr.  Balfour  to  his 
constituents,  you  "forget  the  snorting  steam  and 
piston  stroke,"  and  your  spirit  is  hushed  and 
soothed,  as  when  you  enter  the  dim,  cool  aisles 
of  some  fine  cathedral,  or  the  green  ways  of  a 
leafy  forest.  In  two  paces  you  have  come  into 
another  country  and  another  age. 

So  we  found  it,  Palmer  and  I,  when  on  Mon- 
day last  we  sought  seclusion  from  the  noisy 
manifestations  of  great  Manchester's  great  com- 
merce. At  one  stride  we  severed  ourselves  from 
the  turmoil  and  the  cares,  the  irritations  and  the 
littlenesses  of  this  glorious  century  of  "dividents" 
and  machinery  and  slums  and  profits,  and  be- 
came as  Christians  and  as  human  beings. 


[  Page  eleven  ] 


Gbetbam  College 


"  Peace/'   said  the   artist,  and  raised   his  hat. 
"  Amen,"  quoth  I,  and  raised  mine. 


SpiSp^&La^' 


The  old  well  in  the  Quadrangle 


At  the  angle  of  the  building  we  saw  a  Chet- 
ham  boy  busily  at  it  patching  the  frayed  ground 
with  cement  and  cobbles.     We  called  him  over 


[  Page  twelve  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


and  conversed  with  him. 

He  was  a  nice  little  fellow  with  a  pleasant, 
rosy  face,  a  friendly  smile,  and  a  frank  blue  eye, 
and  liked  us  well. 

"  Who  taught  you  the  gentle  art  of  a  pavior  ? " 

"  We  teach  ourselves,  sir." 

u  How  so,  without  instruction  ?  " 

"  We  learn  by  trying,  sir.     We  do  our  best." 

"  The  best  is  good.  What  do  you  learn  in 
the  school  ? " 

"  Oh,  many  things,  sir ;  French,  and  grammar, 
and  shorthand,  and  geography,  and  —  " 

"A  sound  'commercial  education/  H'm ! 
Where  do  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  Bolton,  sir." 

"  Are  you  an  orphan  ? " 

"  I  have  a  mother,  sir ;  father  is  dead." 

"  So  you  like  the  place  ?     Are  you  happy  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  sir ;  but  I  go  out  soon.  I  shall  be 
fourteen." 

"  And  where  will  you  go,  my  son  ? " 

"  To  Bolton,  sir,  I  suppose." 

"  It  is  well.     Good  luck  attend  you." 

And  so  we  leave  the  little  fellow,  who  goes  back 
smiling  to  his  road  mending.  A  queer  world. 
The  great  busy  tide  of  commerce,  which  beats  up 


[  Page  thirteen  ] 


Cbetbam  Colleae 


to  the  walls  of  this  quiet  haven,  will  lap  him  up 
and  carry  him  away.  He  has  been  here  eight 
years.  I  wonder  will  he  be  as  happy  anywhere 
again;  whither  the  fierce  tide  will  drift  him; 
how  it  will  fare  with  him :  whether  he  will  have  a 
smile  as  trustful  and  a  glance  as  frank  in  the 
years  to  come  when  "  the  cattle  and  swine  have 
chewed  and  trampled  all  the  green  off  him  ?  "  I 
wonder. 

I  mind  me  of  a  time  when — but  now — alas ! 

Chetham  College  stands  on  the  site  of  the  old 
baronial  hall  of  the  Gresleys.  In  the  distant  feu- 
dal times  the  bold,  bad  baron  would  set  his  serfs 
to  work  to  make  a  clearing  in  the  forest,  and 
therein  would  build  his  castle.  Then  round  the 
castle  would  spring  up  a  village,  the  homes  of 
peasants  and  retainers,  under  protection  of  the 
lord. 

Thus  was  it  with  the  ancient  stronghold  of  the 
Gresleys;  so  that  this  half-forgotten  place  is 
actually  the  seed  from  which  sprang  Manchester. 
The  tree  is  a  grimy  one,  and  harbours  strange 
wild-fowl  in  its  branches.  The  seed,  alas,  is  now 
of  little  practical  account  —  quite  insignificant 
and  unimportant  as  compared  with  the  Exchange 
and  the  new  Town  Hall.     But  — ! 


[  Page  fourteen  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


This  old  baronial  hall  was  a  handsome  build- 
ing, doubtless,  and  stood  on  a  pleasant  site. 
Grounded  on  a  rocky  eminence,  forty  feet  above 
the  level,  at  the  fork  of  the  Irwell  and  the  Irk, 
with  a  fair  prospect  over  the  marshy  lands  to  the 
west  and  the  grand  green  woods  all  round. 


Ladies'  Bay  in  the  Great  Hall  with  portion  of  stairs  and  doorway  leading  to  the 

Minor  Hall 

The  silvery  Irk  ran  at  its  foot,  a  pretty  stream. 
There  were  trout  and  grayling  in  its  waters  and 
wan-leaved  willow  and  graceful  alders  on  its 
grassy   banks.      Over   against   the    Irwell    there 


[  Page  fifteen  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


were,  I  am  sure,  some  stately  elms  on  which  the 
rooks  and  the  thrushes  sang. 

Hanging  Ditch  was  then  a  defensive  moat, 
spanned  by  a  swinging  bridge.  Wild  ducks  and 
water  hens  paddled  in  the  pools  of  Withy  Grove, 
and  dappled  kine  cropped  the  dark  fine  grass  in 
the  meadows  where  now  stands  the  station  of  the 
Lancashire  and  Yorkshire  Railway. 

You  may  see  the  river  gate  yet,  and  the  fish 
pond,  and  the  charter,  granted  centuries  later, 
giving  to  the  Chetham  boys  liberty  to  fish  in  the 
IrwelL 

So  stood  the  grand  old  fortress  in  the  grand 
old  days.  How  it  stands  now  I  have  already 
told  you. 

The  present  college  was  founded  and  built  by 
John  De  la  Warre,  the  soldier-priest,  descendant 
of  the  Gresleys. 

De  la  Warre  succeeded  to  the  manorial  rights 
in  1398.  In  142 1  or  thereabouts,  the  rectory 
( now  the  Cathedral )  was  made  into  a  collegiate 
church.  Between  142 1  and  1426,  or  towards 
the  end  of  Henry  Fifth's  reign  ( FalstafFs  Prince 
Hal)  the  present  college  was  founded. 

It  was  founded  for  the  use  and  benefit  of  the 
ecclesiastics   of   the  collegiate  church,   and    was 


[  Page  sixteen  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


the  residence  of  the  warden,  eight  fellows,  and 
six  choristers  of  the  church.  The  six  fellows 
comprised  two  parish  priests,  two  canons,  and 
four  deacons  ;  the  first  warden  being  J  no.  Hunt- 
ingdon, Rector  of  Ashton. 


Fireplace  in  the  old  hall 

On  the  whole,  the  warden  and  his  fellows  must 
have  had  a  good  time  of  it. 

Good  times,  for  the  Puritans  had  cast  no  chilly 
shadow  on  religion  then,  and  prior  and  priests 
were  wise  and  merry  men,  who   could   curse  as 


[  Page  seventeen  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


well  as  pray  in  Latin,  were  as  much  at  home  in 
chain  mail  as  in  gowns  of  frieze ;  could  handle 
sword  and  quarter  staff  as  well  as  rosary ;  could 
deal  a  lusty  blow,  and  eat  a  lusty  meal,  and  sing 
a  lusty  song,  and  would  roast  a  heretic,  or  shrive 
you  a  dying  soldier,  or  heal  an  aching  heart,  or 
wrestle  with  a  fearsome  plague  with  equal  faith- 
fulness. As  witness  jovial  Bishop  Still,  of  Bath 
and  Wells,  and  his  play  of  Gammer  Gurton's 
Needle. 

It  was  not  long  though  before  the  old  religion 
fell  under  the  ban  of  the  thievish,  knavish,  disso- 
lute, swinish  Henry,  miscalled  "Bluff"  King 
Hal;  and  the  monasteries  and  churches  were 
rifled,  the  libraries  scattered,  the  lands  divided 
amongst  the  bandits  and  toadies  of  the  bawdy 
court,  and  the  poor  monks  and  kindly  fat  friars 
and  priors  were  hunted  like  hares  by  the  brutish 
soldiery,  and  plucked  like  pigeons  by  the  light- 
fingered  nobility  of  merry  England  —  ancestors 
of  the  washed-out  peers  who  now  prate  about 
"  confiscation  "  and  the  "  dishonesty  "  of  restoring 
the  soil  to  the  people. 

Strange  to  say,  Chetham  College  appears  to 
have  escaped  this  general  rapine  and  brigandage 
during  Henry's  reign;  but  in  the  first  year  of 


[  Page  eighteen  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


the  Sixth  Edward  the  oversight  was  atoned  for. 
The  college  was  "  dissolved,"  and  the  buildings 
and  land  passed  in  some  mysterious  fashion  into 
the  hands  of  the  Stanleys. 

That  was  about  1547.  The  Stanleys  held  the 
place  for  a  century  or  more,  and  it  became  the 
residence  of  the  Earls  of  Derby. 

But  when  the  troubles  broke  out  between  the 
sainted  Charles  Rex  and  the  Parliament  the 
then  Earl  took  up  the  Royal  cause,  and  served 
it  not  wisely  but  too  well. 

I'm  not  going  at  this  time  of  day  to  fret  old 
wounds.  Women  and  children  were  cut  to 
pieces  at  Bolton  by  the  Earl  of  Derby's  troops ; 
the  Earl  of  Derby  was  wounded  and  taken  pris- 
oner at  the  battle  of  Worcester ;  he  did  die  on 
the  scaffold  in  165 1,  at  Bolton,  the  scene  of 
his  former  exploits,  and  his  estates  were  "for- 
feit "  to  the  Commonwealth  —  the  collegiate 
buildings   of    Manchester   amongst   them. 

Evil  times  now  came  to  the  brave  old  place. 
We  read  of  its  falling  into  disrepair ;  of  its  being 
used  as  a  magazine  for  the  storage  of  arms  and 
ammunition ;  of  horses  being  stabled  in  the 
buildings,  and  soldiers  quartered  in  the  dormi- 
tories and  kitchens  ;  nay,  as  if  these  degradations 


[  Page  nineteen  ] 


Gbetbam  College 


should  not  suffice,  the  home  of  scholarship  and 
piety  became  —  a  prison. 

A  prison  !  There  have  been  sad  hearts  here 
as  well  as  merry  ones,  and  the  grey  old  stones 
have  swallowed  sighs  as  well  as  laughter.  Those 
were  bitter  days,  my  masters,  bloody  and  bitter 
days. 

In  such  case  was  our  collegiate  hall  —  when 
the  benevolent  Humphrey  Chetham  conceived 
the  design  of  turning  it  to  useful  purposes. 

Negotiations  were  opened  by  good  Hum- 
phrey with  the  Parliamentary  committee ;  but 
nothing  came  of  them ;  and  it  was  not  until  after 
his  death  that  the  trustees  of  his  will  obtained 
the  place  by  purchase  from  Charlotte  de  la  Tre- 
monaille,  the  widow  of  the  ill-fated  Earl  of 
Derby,  beheaded  at  Bolton  as  before  said. 

And  so  the  old  baronial  hall  and  collegiate 
residence  became  Chetham  College  by  charter  of 
the  pious  King  Charles  II,  of  glorious  memory, 
in  the  year  of  Grace  1665.     Ta-ra-ra,  etc. 

Chetham's  generous  and  happy  bequest 
brought  him  well-earned  commendation.  Fuller, 
in  his  History  of  the  Worthies  of  England, 
says : — 

"  God  send  us  more  such  men,  that  we  may 


[  Page  twenty  ] 


Cbetbam  Goileae 


dazzle  the  eyes  of  the  Papists  with  the  light  of 
Protestant  works." 

Poor  old  Fuller.  Had  not  Cromwell  "daz- 
zled the  Papist  eyes  "  enough  in  Ireland  with  the 
flashes  of  Protestant  cannon?  Truly,  religious 
intolerance  and  bigotry  are  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made. 

In  the  Library  at  Chetham  College  are  some 
old  MS.  books  of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth 
century,  which  do  most  assuredly  dazzle  our  eyes 
with  the  light  of  Catholic  works  and  that  to  some 
tune. 

Here  we  have  illuminated  manuscripts  on 
vellum,  centuries  old.  The  colours  still  fresh 
and  pure,  the  gold  still  clean  and  lustrous. 
Latin  testaments  and  vulgates,  written  in  the  old 
black  letter,  the  text  perfect  in  its  uniformity  and 
precision,  the  drawings,  initials  and  embellish- 
ments artistic  and  tender;  their  simple  grace, 
their  practised  freedom,  chaste  design,  and  per- 
fect frankness  above  praise. 

Marvellous  and  admirable  are  the  pious  faith- 
fulness and  loving  pains  of  this  old  work.  It 
was  done  "as  to  the  Lord";  done  in  an  age 
when  art  was  loved  for  its  own  sake,  and  not 
sold  for  pelf,  done  when  thoroughness  and  purity 


[  Page  twenty-one  ] 


Gbetbam  College 


were  studied   and   revered,  and   when  time  and 
labour  were  grudged  of  none. 

But  I  do  not  think  these  books  were  written 
and  decorated  by  the  wardens  and  the  fellows. 
No.  I  see  here  the  trained  skill  and  calm  hu- 
mility of  the  poorer  priests  and  friars.  Old  wines 
never  shook  their  nerves,  nor  did  gluttony  of 
rich  viands  blur  the  brains  of  the  scribes  who 
wrought  this  work.  In  them  I  see  the  soul  and 
patience  of  certain  "Chantry  Priests"  named  in 
the  ancient  chronicles. 

These  men  wore  "coarse  frieze  cassocks, 
leathern  girdles,  thick  clogs,  and  felt  hats,  or 
none."  These  men  had  the  "  Right  to  sit  at  din- 
ner with  the  fellows  of  the  college,  and  to  have 
access  to  the  fire?  The  poor  old  hardused  drudges. 
Cannot  you  see  a  picture  here?  A  picture  of 
the  rubicund,  obese  warden  and  his  fleshy  fel- 
lows monopolising  the  grateful  heat  of  the  flaring 
logs  in  the  ingle,  and  the  plain-clad  deferential 
priests  hovering  round,  rubbing  humble  hands, 
and  peering  at  the  blaze. 

The  interior  of  Chetham  College  is  as  elegant 
and  stately  as  its  associations  are  interesting  and 
romantic.  You  pass  first  of  all  through  the  great 
dimly  lighted  library,  where  are  60,000  valuable 


[  Page  twenty-two  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


books.  You  feel  here  that  subtle  odour  of  mel- 
low sheets  and  bindings  so  grateful  to  the  stu- 
dent; and  that  still  more  subtle  odour  of  old 
scholarship,  old  chivalry,  old  Latin,  and  old 
lore  —  an  odour  spiritual,  evanescent,  but  not 
less  real. 

Leaving  the  library,  you  go  through  the  great 
hall  —  a  place  similar  in  character  to  the  hall  at 
Haddon ;  with  a  lofty  roof,  a  gigantic  ingle  nook, 
a  raised  table,  and  minstrels'  gallery.  Thence  to 
the  fine  old  kitchen,  with  its  fine  old  fireplace, 
over  which  hang  some  fine  old  knives,  and  a  spit 
large  enough  to  hold  an  ox.  There  have  been 
brave  cookeries  and  carousals  here  in  the  by-gone 
times.  One  looks  at  the  great  range  and  smacks 
one's  lips.  Oh,  ho  1  the  visions  of  reeking  veni- 
son, of  huge  game  pasties,  and  monstrous  barons 
of  beef.  Oh,  ho !  the  good  fat  ale,  the  savoury 
sausage,  and  the  oven  cakes  of  tempting  odour. 

There  is  a  spy  hole  near  the  roof  in  the  old 
kitchen,  whence  in  the  brave  days  of  old  the 
Lord  was  wont  to  keep  an  eye  upon  his  hench- 
men, for  the  menials  slept  here,  say  the  old 
chronicles — "upon  the  floor." 

We  walk  through  the  chill  grey  Gothic  clois- 
ters ( not  without  feeling  that  some  heavy-jowled, 


[  Page  twenty-three  ] 


Cbetbam  Goiieae 


thick-waisted,  flat-footed  monk  may  possibly  be 
behind  us ) ;  we  see  the  time-scarred  quadrangle, 
and  the  foot-worn  steps  and  terraces  and  we 
come  to  the  feofees'  room  —  a  handsome  apart- 
ment, with  a  massive  fifteenth  century  roof  and 
massive  seventeenth  century  furniture  —  wherein 

we  be  sure  have 
met  some  goodly 
companies  of  ladies 
fair,  and  gallants  gay 
and  grey-beards 
wise  with  years  and 
proud  with  high  dis- 
tinction. We  look 
at  the  quaint  old 
chairs,  and  old  gro- 
tesque oak  carvings, 
on  which  the  glam- 
our of  lang  syne 
bestows  an  almost 
human  interest,  and  we  turn  away  with  a  sigh 
for  the  dead  generations  of  the  brave  and  bonny 
who  have  withered  and  gone  to  dust  like  the 
fallen  flowers  of  forgotten  summers.  Poor  old 
warriors  and  councillors  and  minstrels  and  divines ; 
poor  old  broken  harps,  and  rusted  swords,  and 


The  Audit  or  "  Feofees'  "  Room,  with 
fifteenth  century  oaken  ceiling 


[  Page  twenty-four  J 


Gbetbam  College 


faded  fineries;  poor  old  songs  that  are  sung, 
tales  that  are  told,  lives  lived,  loves  burnt  out 
and  feuds  forgotten.     Vanity   of   vanities,  saith 


The  Reading  Room,  formerly  the  Warden's  Room 

the  preacher.  Man  cometh  up  as  a  flower,  and 
is  cut  down.  His  days  are  swifter  than  a  weav- 
er's shuttle. 


[  Page  twenty-five  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


The  grandest,  fairest,  finest  room  in  the  place 
is  the  old  oak-panelled  reading  room.  It  is 
noble;   no  other  adjective  describes  it. 

At  one  end  there  is  a  splendid  bay,  and  in  it 
a  splendid  dark  oak  writing  table.  Sit  you  down 
there  in  that  well-lit  airy  nook,  before  that  ven- 
erable desk,  and  think 
awhile.  You  can  think 
there.  Give  me  a  quiet 
hour  and  I  will  raise  you 
sheeted  ghosts  in  shad- 
owy battalions,  and  spin 
you  tales  of  love  and 
battle  as  the  spider  spins 
silk.  You  doubt  it?  A 
man  must  have  less  im- 
agination than  a  money 
lender  if  he  will  not  be 
come  a  poet  here. 

Good  work  has  been 
done  at  this  table,  too.  Many  a  good  fellow  has 
written  here.  De  Quincey,  possibly,  for  he  was 
Manchester  born,  may  have  sat  here.  Harrison 
Ainsworth  wrote  many  of  his  romances  here. 
They  show  you  one  of  his  MSS.  in  the  Library. 
It   is   excellent   copy,   written  in   a   bold    lucid 


Historic  bay  and  Writing  Table  in 
reading  room 


[  Page  twenty-six  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


hand,  with  few  erasures  and  interlineations. 
Ainsworth  had  a  brisk  and  virile  genius,  and  I 
think  should  have  done  more  worthy  work.  Per- 
haps he  took  things  too  easily.  Good  work  costs 
even  good  men  dear. 

Oh,  it  is  a  grand  old  place,  and  yet !     It  is 
difficult     to     realise 
how  old  it  is.     One 
must    think    awhile. 

Remember  now: 
This  college  was 
built  about  1425,  on 
the  site  of  a  Nor- 
man castle.  When 
this  old  roof  was 
framed  there  was  no 
America  !  There 
was  no  Shakespeare ! 
There  was  no  Indian 
Empire !  There  was 
no  Protestant  religion !  There  was  no  cotton 
trade  !  There  was  no  Empire  of  All  the  Russias ! 
Do  these  things  convey  to  you  some  notion  as  to 
how  venerable  our  Chetham  College  is  ? 

What  are  your  feelings,  my  proud  Mancunians, 
when  I  quote  for  you  old  Leland,  who  in   1538 


Jacobean  Staircase  leading  to  cloister 
gallery 


[  Page  twenty-seven  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


describes  Manchester  as  "standing  in  Salford- 
shire"? 

A  quaint  old  scribe  that  Fuller.  "  The  Irwell," 
says  he,  "  The  Irwell  is  not  navigable  in  some 
places  for  vadys  and  rokkes."  As  I  sat  there  and 
read  these  lines,  I  half  expected  to  find  the  old 
divine  standing  before  me  when  I  raised  my 
eyes. 

But  instead  of  seeing  Fuller,  I  saw  the  play- 
ground and  the  gate,  and  in  the  gate-way  looking 
idly  at  the  hall  —  a  telegraph  boy. 

Yes,  a  telegraph  boy,  within  a  hundred  paces 
of  me,  and  close  to  my  hand  there  hung  a  framed 
autograph  letter  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's. 

The  experience  was  very  curious,  and  made 
me  wonder  which  century  I  was  living  in,  and 
which  life  was  the  real  one. 

Doubtless  Sir  Walter  has  been  here,  and 
stern  old  Knoll,  and  classic  Milton,  and  many, 
many  more  whom  we  would  be  fain  enough  to 
meet,  could  they  but  return. 

As  one  sits  here  in  this  tranquil,  cool  retreat, 
it  seems  almost  impossible  to  realise  the  storms 
and  troubles  through  which  it  has  passed.  Yet 
Chetham  College,  as  our  rough  glimpse  and  out- 
line of  its  history  prove,  has  known  exciting 
times. 


[  Page  twenty-eight  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


There  would  be  great  wagging  of  monkish 
double  chins  in  the  great  hall,  when  the  news 
came  that  Columbus  had  discovered  a  new 
world.  There  would  be  broad  smiles  of  satis- 
faction over  the  destruction  of  the  Lollards.  The 
victory  of  Agincourt,  the  emeute  of  Master  Jack 
Cade  would  find  fat  themes  for  gossip.  The 
advent  of  Joan  of  Arc ;  the  final  tragedy  of  that 
brave  life  in  the  square  of  Rouen  must  have 
ruffled  this  dove-cote  into  agitation. 

So  during  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  the  shaven 
pates  would  waggle  wisely,  and  the  little  town  of 
Manchester  outside  the  college  walls  be  strangely 
stirred. 

Then  there  was  the  bloody  eve  of  St.  Bar- 
tholomew. How  did  the  fellows  take  that? 
Ruefully  we  hope.  Though  in  those  times  the 
sword  was  ruthless  and  the  martyr  fires  burnt 
briskly. 

Turn  into  the  old  council  chamber,  strange 
whisperings  have  gone  on  there  about  black 
deeds,  and  wild  intrigues.  The  Death  of  War- 
wick the  King-maker,  the  antics  of  crookback 
Dick  the  Third,  the  terrible  fate  of  Mistress 
Shore,  the  landing  of  the  Irish  and  Germans 
under  Lord  Lincoln. 


[  Page  twenty-nine  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


Much  sly  tattle  also  we  can  fancy,  as  to  the 
elopement  of  Dorothy  Vernon  from  Haddon  Hall, 
or  the  weakness  of  Edward  the  Fourth  for  saucy 
Mistress  Woodville,  or  the  bewildering  amatory 
gyrations  of  the  licentious  Eight  Harry. 

Great  would  be  the  consternation  anent  the 
heresy  and  violence  of  that  fat  and  foul  de- 
bauchee. How  the  poor  monks  would  sigh  and 
fret  as  the  news  dribbled  in  of  monasteries  plun- 
dered, priests  slain,  altars  rifled. 

And  then,  the  death  of  the  bully,  a  gleam  of 
hope,  a  shadow  of  fear,  and  —  exeunt  the  clerics 
of  the  Collegiate  Church,  and  enter  the  Stanleys 
of  the  grasping  hand. 

High  state  and  revelry,  no  doubt  in  Derby's 
time.  As  I  sit  here,  the  Chetham  boys  are  chant- 
ing very  sweetly  in  the  dining  hall  below.  I 
wonder  now  did  the  singers  of  those  old  days  pipe 
up  their  quaint  sweet  melodies.  Do  you  know 
the  old  English  glees  and  madrigals  of  Henry 
the  hog  his  reign  ?  There  are  some  of  them  which 
possess  a  strange  inward  sweetness  and  plaintive 
air.  Have  you  heard  "  My  Bonny  Lass  She 
Smileth  ?  "  They  could  sing  in  those  days  beau- 
tiful songs,  depend  upon  it. 

Later,  when   the   troubles    broke    out  'twixt 


[  Page  thirty  ] 


Cbetbam  Colleae 


Crown  and  Parliament,  there  would  be  anxious  and 
gloomy  days  in  the  hall  of  the  Stanleys.  You  can 
fancy  James,  Earl  of  Derby,  frowning  at  the  news 
of  Chalgrove  Field  or  Naseby.  You  can  picture 
to  yourself  the  stern,  sour  face  of  the  Puritan 
official  God-in-his-mercy  Thomson,  or  Patient-un- 
der-chastenings  Brown,  as  he  stalked  through  this 
handsome  old  place  and  took  possession  and  in- 
ventory for  the  commonwealth  after  Earl  James 
had  lost  his  head. 

On  the  17th  August,  1648,  the  day  of  the  bat- 
tle of  Preston,  Cromwell  writes  to  the  "Honourable 
Committee  of  Lancashire,  sitting  at  Manchester," 
giving  account  of  the  victory  and  of  the  dispersal 
of  the  Royalist  troops,  and  adds :  "  Therefore,  in 
order  to  perfecting  this  work,  we  desire  you  to 
raise  your  county,  and  to  improve  your  forces,  to 
the  total  ruin  of  that  enemy  whichway  soever  they 
go ;  and  if  you  shall  accordingly  do  your  part, 
doubt  not  of  their  total  ruin.  We  thought  fit  to 
speed  this  to  you,  to  the  end  that  you  may  not  be 
troubled  if  they  shall  march  towards  you,  but  improve 
your  interest  as  aforesaid,  that  you  may  give  glory 
to  God  for  this  unspeakable  mercy." 

Comment  is  heedless.  There,  in  those  few 
lines,  is  a  lurid  light,  burning  torch-like  from  the 


[  Page  thirty-one  ] 


Cbetbam  College 


darkness  of  dead  years,  to  illuminate  the  history 
and  vicissitudes  of  Chetham  College. 

My  telegraph  boy  is  peering  through  the  gate. 
The  college  boys  are  playing  cricket  on  the 
blasted  heath.  Why  no  grass,  Oh!  feofees,  and  why 
no  flowers  ?    Our  artist  sits  placidly  sketching  the 


Chetham  boys,  with  entrance  to  the  Pump  Court 
and  Old  Brew  House 


to*7 


old  bay.  The  smoke  of  modern  commerce  drifts 
across  the  square.  I  think  of  the  general  election ; 
the  London  County  Council;  the  Ship  Canal.  Ah ! 
How  it  cools  the  blood  to  sit  musing  in  this 
quiet  oldness.     How  it  humbles  one.     There  are 


[  Page  thirty-two  ] 


Cbctbam  College 


the  solid  firm-set  chairs  and  tables ;  the  faithful 
carvings,  paintings,  mouldings ;  the  silent  ranks 
of  good  old  books,  filled  full  of  good  old  thoughts; 
the  sign  and  record  of  much  learning,  courage, 
beauty,  power,  love,  and  tenderness  passed  by  and 
perished.     Peace  be  to  them  all.     Amen. 

Chetham  Old  College  resembles  a  rare  and 
antique  vase  filled  with  the  faint  leaves  of  with- 
ered roses.  The  odour  of  the  dim  dead  leaves  is 
delicate  and  frail,  but  sweet. 


ytnis 


\ 


I0m-12,'23 


YC  3965' 


V 


